


twisted measure

by Aminias



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Canon-Typical Violence, Classic Steter Vibes, Dubious Morality, First Season rewrite, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Peter is a Little Shit, Sexual Tension, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves, White Wolf Peter, the bite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 06:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14490627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aminias/pseuds/Aminias
Summary: The man smirked, and it could have lured angels to sin. Stiles cursed his heart for skipping another step, he blamed it on the flash of fang and crimson eyes. “My niece,” he said.“That’s sick,” Stiles stated, staring him down, unwilling to look away. Orbs the color of garnet gems with the richness of blood diamonds regarded him in return.“I don’t see you running.”





	twisted measure

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to everyone in the chat for keeping me sane and staying steady in these last few trying months. I could think of no better way to say thank you then through some good ole' Steter. All of you have been and will continue to be a major part of my life, I cannot stress enough how much I value our friendship and your presence, thank you this one is to all of you. Even though the show has ended this is far from goodbye. 
> 
> To my readers for sticking with me even as I briefly ventured away from TW to other fandom and original works to staying even as my computer broke and didn't update for ages, bless. 
> 
> shout out to Reb for holding my hand and giving me that leg up also Brandi for being there
> 
> I typed most of this with one hand as I injured my fool self please forgive mistake and help me improve this work by catching errors <3

Stiles crouched down behind the crates, iron flooding his mouth. Air rattled about his lungs and he coughed, wheezing for breath. He didn’t expect to end up here, from leaving the safety of his jeep to a mad dash from the woods to this factory.

Before him, an animal that was far too large to be a normal wolf prowled closer. Its sharp black muzzle was covered in flecks of blood and spittle drooled out its maw. Paws larger than dinner plates and claws the size of the biggest kitchen knife clicked down on concrete. Large wounds leaked on either side of its flanks, but it made no move to attack.

He whimpered, putting pressure on the wound at his hip. The wolf paused and cocked its head, great fangs dripping red. Its ear flicked, and it made an inquiring rumble drawing closer.

A white streak descended from above the beast and landed in its path. The white wolf roared, there was no other word for it, putting itself in front of him, jaws biting the air near the black.   The black shook itself, he had no other name for the expression on its face besides startled. Stiles savior’s hackles rose and they both circled, snapping, and seeking an opening.

He took the momentary reprieve for what it was and tried to drag himself away, his hand left wet smears of red on the concrete.

Pain flared, his good arm slipped. Agony lighted through his ribs and he gasped, biting his lip to keep from screaming. Stiles sank down, exhaustion seizing him. Blinking back tears he watched the battle through half lidded eyes.

They clashed. The black wolf wild and furious, it was like something from discovery channel. The white one with dashes of black and grey almost like pepper kept its feet, clever and agile. Stiles could almost see the intelligence behind both their eyes.

The white clearly more experienced dodged the black’s jaws. Frustrated the black growled and rose up on its great paws, it snagged the white with a brutal blow and slammed down. Bone splintered. Stiles winced and looked away.

His eyes caught sight of a twisted bit of metal and he reached for it. The wolves struggled, rabid snarls and yelps of pain igniting the air, fueling his desperation. He stretched his fingers and grasped the piece of debris.

A distressed growl twisted into an almost human scream sounded and a body thudded to the ground. Stiles turned back to where the wolves had been.

Only the white remained standing fur stained with red and muzzle crusted with blood it shook it head and a piece of meat fell to the floor in a wet squish.

A heart Stiles realized and gagged stomach turning at the smell. The best stalked forwards regal face scrutinizing him. Human intelligence working behind that animal gaze.

Then the wolf was a man. Stiles blinked.

“You don’t seem that impressed,” The man, the very naked man said.

Well the wolf man didn’t seem embarrassed, so why should he? “If you expect an award for swooping in,” Stiles began and trailed off as the dark-haired man snapped his shoulder back into place.

He sighed and rolled his neck. “Now that you mention it, a reward wouldn’t be remiss, after all I did save the Princess.”

“Princess my ass,” Stiles muttered, wincing. “Who the fuck are you?”

“That’s not very polite.”

“Neither is being chased and cornered,” Stiles countered heart ricocheting. He was past the point of true fear and well into adrenaline infused bravado.

“Oh, but that wasn’t me, did she bite you?” Something dark lurked in his gaze and Stiles scooted backwards into the crate.

“How rude of Laura,” the goateed man continued muttering to himself.

“Laura?” Stiles questioned, eyes falling on the dismembered corpse. There was something familiar about the body, the pools of dark hair billowed around a striking face. A muscular arm blocked his line of sight and Stiles was forced to lock eyes with the wolf wearing human skin.

The man smirked, and it could have lured angels to sin. Stiles cursed his heart for skipping another step, he blamed it on the flash of fang and crimson eyes. “My niece,” he said.

“That’s sick,” Stiles stated, staring him down, unwilling to look away. Orbs the color of garnet gems with the richness of blood diamonds regarded him in return.

“I don’t see you running.”

“Ha, so funny, as if I could run in my state.” He pointed out. “You’re welcome to try eating me, but I’m pretty bony, meat’s going to be stringy, and uh gamey, not the best delicacy. Maybe stick to bunnies and let me go, please?” Air left him in a rush.

The man chuffed, the laugh rolling up from his chest wicked and dirty.

Stiles shivered.

“Oh, little rabbit you're not going anywhere.”

“Darn,” he gasped out, panic bubbling under his skin, “Then can I have my killer’s name?” His heart racketed up and nearly leapt out his throat. The piece of debris in his hand.

“I’m flattered, it’s Peter.” Predatory hunger shadowed Peter’s face. Taken up by some primal urge that warned him to fight, Stiles lifted his chin, staring up at the man even as he loomed closer, arms bracketing Stiles to the crate.

“Hi Peter,” he got out even as the hot breath fanned his face, “I’m Stiles.”

“Not a lie,” Peter mused and broke their prolonged eye contact to take note of Stiles’ clenched hand. “Maybe not so much of a rabbit after all, shame about that wound.” He paid mention to Stiles’ side. He was remarkably sure at least two ribs were cracked if the increasing struggle to draw air and fire in every time he breathed was any indication. He shuddered unbidden as tremors wracked his body.

“It’s not fatal,” He countered, letting the metal slip from his grip and clatter down. Peter ran surprisingly tender hands over him, checking at his wounds. Stiles blinked the fuzz back focusing in on every point their flesh touched. Warmth seeped from Peter’s hands fighting away the chill, black veins working up his arms seemed to pull the pain from Stiles. Intellectually he knew everything would hurt, but he felt soft, cushioned, as if wrapped in layers of covers.

“You’re correct the wound’s not a mortal but you are.” The wolf paused. “Would you like to change that?”

The thought flashed in his mind that the muzzle of the wolf chasing him hadn't been black.

This is what Eve must have felt like when the snake whispered in her ear, the apple hanging above red and gleaming.

There was promise in those eyes, a power for the taking if he reached. Just one bite that smile said, Hades pressing the pomegranate into Persephone's hand and bidding her eat.

Stiles held out his wrist and tilted his neck, “Bite me.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked what you saw or have questions feel free to leave a review on your way out <3 
> 
> Tumblr @shudder-dove


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